the haunting of roses, of gardenias in the side yard
we imagined in the silver rains
and in the lanes immemorial
a stirring amid the cottage vines
birdsong too we heard but was it there
or was it a something in the air disguised
the aftermirage of pastel shimmering skies
every time you closed your eyes
to sleep a velvet sleep
the petals of unfolding sweet
and you dream you are the haunting of roses
the gardenias in the side yard
and it's you returning to the brick house under the pines
where the wind whines
like the small dog scratching to get in
and we laugh because we've scared ourselves again
without really knowing that we could
oh knock on wood
let Heaven be your coverlid
as it is for the roses under the snow
in the Christmas countdown, far to go
we've eaten our Halloween candies up
and now the door seems different than
it did before: and supper far away and chores:
comeuppance time Ray Bradbury chimed
and you hear something soft outside
and our eyes are glazed and we ask
is it you and there's no answer
from the one you knew
was there just a moment ago
and you think of the twilight zone
and each of us thinks we're quite alone
with the quilts all up to our chins
with the story we don't dare end
pretending to think of tomorrow's lunch at school while
contemplating the deep and the pooled
shadows of the doll on the tufty green chair
and the glitter of something on the stair!
it is the Spooky Bride, oh HIDE
and we try so hard not to think
of attic sounds or the kitchen sink with its drip drop
the looming of the kitchen mop the sudden
shaking of the ground
and the haunting of roses outside the blinds
or the swings we used to ride just yesterday
oh it's too much
swinging by themselves..
when the winds are hushed just now,
and stilled...
mary angela douglas 15 may 2017
we imagined in the silver rains
and in the lanes immemorial
a stirring amid the cottage vines
birdsong too we heard but was it there
or was it a something in the air disguised
the aftermirage of pastel shimmering skies
every time you closed your eyes
to sleep a velvet sleep
the petals of unfolding sweet
and you dream you are the haunting of roses
the gardenias in the side yard
and it's you returning to the brick house under the pines
where the wind whines
like the small dog scratching to get in
and we laugh because we've scared ourselves again
without really knowing that we could
oh knock on wood
let Heaven be your coverlid
as it is for the roses under the snow
in the Christmas countdown, far to go
we've eaten our Halloween candies up
and now the door seems different than
it did before: and supper far away and chores:
comeuppance time Ray Bradbury chimed
and you hear something soft outside
and our eyes are glazed and we ask
is it you and there's no answer
from the one you knew
was there just a moment ago
and you think of the twilight zone
and each of us thinks we're quite alone
with the quilts all up to our chins
with the story we don't dare end
pretending to think of tomorrow's lunch at school while
contemplating the deep and the pooled
shadows of the doll on the tufty green chair
and the glitter of something on the stair!
it is the Spooky Bride, oh HIDE
and we try so hard not to think
of attic sounds or the kitchen sink with its drip drop
the looming of the kitchen mop the sudden
shaking of the ground
and the haunting of roses outside the blinds
or the swings we used to ride just yesterday
oh it's too much
swinging by themselves..
when the winds are hushed just now,
and stilled...
mary angela douglas 15 may 2017
